I Don't Know How To Love Him
by WizMonCruWil
Summary: "I never thought I'd come to this! What's it all about?" I was inspired by the Sara Barellies version of this Jesus Christ Superstar ballad. While Ron is away, and after he comes back, Hermione sorts out her feelings for her two best friends. Enjoy!
1. Chapter 1: Should I Bring Him Down?

**Chapter 1: Should I Bring Him Down?**

It was another late night in that tent in the middle of the woods. Only the crickets could be heard making any noise as Hermione Granger raised her head from the book she was reading. She glanced at her watch. It shouldn't have surprised her anymore how she could get lost in a book and lose all track of time. She and Harry should have traded off on watch duty over an hour ago. And yet he still hadn't come in. Slowly, she rose from the table bench and went outside to look for her best friend.

She found him passed out in the little fold-up chair just outside the flap. Wordlessly, she awoke him as she heaved him to his feet and staggered him over to the bunk.

"Ginny... Riddle... I open at the close..." Harry was slurring, still half-asleep.

"Ssh. Enough. Go to sleep, Harry. Let the world turn without you tonight..." Hermione helped him into the low bunk, where he promptly fell dead to the world again.

She watched him from her bunk across the tent. She had never admitted this to anyone, but Harry looked quite handsome when he slept. In spite of everything, she felt he had aged well out of the little boy she had once known. Stubble clung to his cheek, more peppery than, and not nearly as luscious as -

She felt a sharp stab of pain, but the name appeared in her head too late. _Ron_. Three weeks, it had been. Three weeks since the love of her life had walked out on her, possibly forever. Leaving her to look after another piece of her broken heart - that other piece which now slumbered in the bed across from her.

To say that Hermione hadn't been tempted would be a lie. In these three weeks of close to literally frozen-over hell, the thought had occurred to her. At first, the potential had disgusted her - Harry was like her big brother. But with the way they had barely been speaking to each other, naturally a burgeoning closeness that was unspoken had been required. They were physically inseparable, but emotionally isolated. Emotionally isolated from their significant others. Harry couldn't hide from her that he had been watching Ginny's dot on the Marauder's Map. They were lonely, and Hermione and Harry both knew it.

And then... that night that they had danced... for a moment, forgetting their troubles... It could very well have happened then. Not because either of them particularly wanted to do it (the thought of being unfaithful to Ron, dishonoring Ron, even now, made her squirm just a little - never mind that there was Ginny to think about) but because both she and Harry were starved for human closeness. Perhaps he could imagine she was Ginny, and she could imagine he was Ron...

But no. Forget that he felt like her big brother, he was also a hero. Their last hope. In the years she had known him, Hermione had always felt that there was something about Harry that was not of this world. A part of it frightened her - _he scares me so..._ Call it his death-defying abilities, or his brave solemnity, but he seemed like... almost like a Christ-like figure. Which just made the temptation all the more tantalizing.

 _I don't know how to love him. What to do, how to move him. I've been changed - yes, really changed. In these past few days, when I see myself, I seem like someone else. I don't know how to take this. I don't see why he moves me. He's a man... he's just a man. And I've had so many men before, in very many ways - he's just one more._

Yes, she had snogged Viktor Krum - a schoolgirl's fantasy come to life. And she had dragged that pathetic Cormac McLaggen around like a puppy on a chain, but more to piss off Ron than anything else. But Harry - she genuinely felt something for Harry that was as strong as what she still felt for Ron. She had always been certain that it was familial love, but... was it something _else_? Even if it was, the timing could not be worse. Harry couldn't be distracted - so much weighed heavily on his mind. So much rested on his shoulders.

 _Should I bring him down? Should I scream and shout? Should I speak of love? Let my feelings out? I never thought I'd come to this! What's it all about?_

Despairing, Hermione fell back onto her cot, and fell asleep.


	2. Chapter 2: He Scares Me So

**Chapter 2: He Scares Me So**

His red head of hair had come blazing back through their camp like a wildfire out of control. When he had first appeared to her, looking like a ghost and a dream all at once, she had let him have it.

But now, a week after Ron's return, and she and Ron were out a mile or so from the tent, foraging for wild nuts and berries. The expedition had been agreed upon without so much as a row, but rather silently. So was that really all that much of an improvement? Hermione wasn't sure.

She couldn't help it. She could be mad at him until the day they either both dropped dead or said I Do, but she couldn't help but watch him, gaze at him as bent over some blackberry bushes. Were it not for her pride, she would surrender right now. Making him work for it had seemed like a good idea at the time, that first morning they were back together again, but now? She had to laugh at herself, just a little.

 _Don't you think it's rather funny, I should be in this position? I'm the one who's always been... so calm, so cool - no lover's fool. Running every show... he scares me so. I never thought I'd come to this! What's it all about?_

She had little to no idea that similar thoughts were running through Ron's mind. But she could feel his eyes on her, as she gathered some nuts from the forest floor.

"Hermione?" His low voice made her heart flutter.

"Yes?" Her own voice was too sweet; she forgot to be short with him. Especially when he looked at her like that.

"I love you."

She couldn't have misheard him, the snowy forest all around them was deathly quiet. Hearing the words pass from his lips, the ones she had wanted to hear him say since they were eleven years old... it left Hermione completely untethered. Gaping at him, trembling, she stumbled back in the snow, her eyes filling with tears.

 _Yet if he said he loved me... I'd be lost, I'd be frightened. I couldn't cope - just couldn't cope. I'd turn my head. I'd back away. I wouldn't want to know... He scares me so!_

He couldn't love her! Could he? She pointed to herself, even, hardly daring to believe it, her lip quivering. "Ron..." she sighed."We can't..."

He had always been more perceptive than anyone ever gave him credit for, and Ron latched onto this right away. She hadn't said _I_ can't; she had said _We_ can't. "Then you _do_ feel something too!" he exulted, reaching for her.

Was he listening? Hearing himself? "Harry needs us on our best behavior," she told him as firmly as she could. "Being... together, it would be a distraction to him. Regardless of the way we feel about each other... The Horcruxes... the sword..."

He was almost on top of her, gazing at her with those impossibly blue eyes. "Hermione," he murmured. "Stay with me."

"I..."

"Please." Merlin, did she really have to make him _beg_? Hell, shouldn't she be asking this of him, instead of the other way round? He was the one who had left her! She mentally slapped herself for the singular pronoun. Gazing into his eyes, her heart screaming in protest that she should just grab onto what he was offering with both hands and not let go, she raised a hand to his cheek, caressing his face.

"Ron..." her voice broke. "You left me... I can't..."

He seized her hand and kissed the inside of her palm, laid his cheek upon it. Kept a grip on her wrist. Hermione vaguely felt his other arm encircle her waist, pulling her close, flush against him. Her eyelids fluttered, drooped shut; she could feel her erratic breathing, see it manifest itself in clumps of air floating in what little space was left between them.

"I've been in mourning... since you were... gone... and... I love you!" That was the last she said before she gave in, and their lips slammed together.

It was perfection, heaven. Fireworks went off in Hermione's brain even as it rapidly shut down. Choirs of angels were singing somewhere, far, far away... Her limbs entwined about Ron desperately as she opened her mouth to him. Ron was clutching her close. She hardly noticed that they had backed into a tree trunk, as the pair furiously snogged. Viktor had never tasted like this... never... All at once, she was so glad that she had waited for him, had resisted the temptation of Harry...

 _Harry_... Hermione's eyes popped open and she yanked herself out of the kiss. "No!" she cried, the moment that she had regained breath with which to speak. "I shouldn't have done that." Her heart shattered at the wounded puppy look on Ron's face.

"I'm... sorry?" he gaped, his voice trailing off into an uncertain question. All at once, Hermione sprang forward desperately, her hands cradling his face. She couldn't bear for any more misunderstandings - that was why he had left.

"I'm not sorry for loving you!" she got out quickly, as if she didn't have the time. "I'm not even sorry for kissing you. But... we have to wait... until this is all over..."

Ron stared down at her sadly. "We may never get there."

Her mouth went dry. She gulped, but held his gaze. "Maybe not. I know that," she agreed grimly, in a whisper. Ron reached for her again.

"At least let me show you how sorry I am! I mean it, Hermione: my life was a bloody _joke_ without you. I missed so much - missed _you_ , and I'm not going to miss any more. One night. That's all I ask."

Hermione's knees felt weak. But sure, strong Ron caught her and kissed her, and she allowed him to literally sweep her off her feet and carry her grandly, bridal-style, into the tent, back-dropped against the setting sun. She only hoped that Harry would not come in from his scouting mission and disturb them...

And as Ron hovered above her in the bunk and made slow, sweet, gentle, tender love to her, one thought remained in Hermione's brain:

 _I want him so... I love him so..._

* * *

The heavy pounding of a driving rain awoke Hermione many hours later. Only a blanket clothed her naked body, as she lay wrapped in Ron's arms, her head across his bare chest. He was snoring away, the sound creating a lullaby alongside both the rain and the steady beat of his heart.

Hermione pressed her lips into Ron's chest once, as she climbed over him. Pausing, she bent her head to kiss his mouth with hers.

"I love you," she murmured, her breath tickling his mouth. Ron stirred, but did not wake. Easing herself out of the bunk, Hermione wrapped the blanket around herself and glided towards their tent's little kitchenette. All at once, a voice pinged out from the darkness behind her.

"You know, there really are a shortage of perfect breasts in this world. It would be a pity to ruin yours."

Hermione nearly screamed as she jumped and spun about, to find a pair of emerald green eyes gleaming at her from a darkened corner from the tent, just inside the flap. A smirk appeared in the dim light. "Princess Bride? Really? You didn't get that reference?"

"You startled me!" she gasped, pressing a hand to her heart.

Harry chuckled as he rose from the little folding chair and came into the light. "Don't worry - I didn't watch anything. You both were out cold and oddly lacking in clothing by the time I got back. Thought I would let you both sleep." Though there was a flicker of disappointment - an "Oh, darn!" look - in his eyes. It made Hermione smirk, as they sat across from each other at the bench table.

"Sad to have missed the show, are you?" she teased, drawing the blanket closer around herself, and accepting from Harry the offered mug of pine-leaves tea. "Or are you just feeling left out?"

He peered at her curiously, and she flushed. "Are you angry with me?" The words were out before she could stop them.

Harry shook his head. "No. Never. Everyone has a breaking point. That yours and Ron lasted this long before it gave... about bloody time!"

Hermione blushed even harder, wilting a little at how Harry's gaze now turned serious. "Does he love you?"

"Yes," she whispered.

"Do you love him?"

Her gaze flickered back with tenderness towards the naked man still passed out in the bunk. "Dear _Merlin_ , yes!"

"Was he good to you?"

"Yes, Harry."

Her best friend smiled. "Then that's all I need to know. You have my blessing. You need a moment alone, just say so, and I will accommodate accordingly. But -" and here he fixed her with his commander-in-chief stare. "Don't let it get in the way of the mission. When we're working, we're working. And when we're not…." He shrugged. "We're not."

Hermione nodded. "I promise." She gazed back at Ron with love in her eyes. "I'm glad I waited," she murmured quietly.

Harry snorted. "Well, it's not like you had any other options."

"I had you," Hermione shrugged.

Harry choked on his water. He gaped at her. "You mean...?"

She shrugged again. "I thought about it. I was lonely."

Harry awkwardly rubbed at the back of his neck. "Well... that makes two of us," he finally admitted. He blushed with shame when she stared at him. "But you wanted to be faithful to Ron. I get it. It's nothing I wouldn't have done, at least where it concerns Ginny. I would have wanted to be true to her, too. But... we _were_ lonely."

She nodded, conceding the point. "At least it would have meant something."

"Of course. Closeness. Human touch," Harry said too quickly, like he was desperate to get away from the subject, yet at the same time, hash it out. "But... neither of us would have found what we were _really_ looking for."

Again, Hermione nodded, her eyes soft on his face. "I love you," she murmured gently. "But... in a different, special way. Like a brother."

Harry grinned. "Well, I've always wanted a sister. And that's what I told Ron, anyway." She peered at him curiously, amused, smirking.

"When was this?"

Oddly, Harry only met her eyes halfway. "Nothing. Ask Ron, he'll tell you. He should be the one to tell you, anyway."

Hermione shrugged once more, letting the matter drop. "I'm going back to bed," she whispered quietly, rising with the blanket covering her nakedness, rubbing Harry's arm soothingly, pressing her lips to his temple, as she passed him on the way to Ron's bunk. "Goodnight, big brother."

Harry's smile was crinkled with tenderness and age. "Sweet dreams, baby sister."

And as Hermione snuggled up against her lover again, the same undeniable thought came into her mind as she gazed at Ron:

 _I want him so... I love him so..._


End file.
